Everyone seems to be getting very excited about football, specifically about Sunday’s final between England and Spain. My Spanish sister declares herself conflicted - she doesn’t know which team to support. I think she’s in a win-win situation. She’s lived in Spain long enough to be happy if Spain wins and yet remains sufficiently English to be happy if England wins. No conflict! Unless she watches it in her local bar!
Some supermarkets have stated their intention to close early on Sunday evening so that their staff can go and watch the match. And they plan to open late on Monday morning so that the staff and customers can have a lie-in after staying up late to celebrate or commiserate. Even some schools have said they will start late as they are aware that many of their pupils will have sat up late watching the match and will need to carch up on their sleep.
Nobody made any of this consideration when people might have sat up late watching the election results roll in at the end of last week. I think we can recognise where the country’s priorities lie. Besides, according to one pollster’s survey only 52% of those eligible to vote actually went out and voted! Perhaps rather a higher percentage watch football with enthusiasm.
Even the Tour de France riders will be able to watch the match and then have a lie-in (possibly, depending on training, the need to appear before the press, and so on, as Monday is a rest day!
We watched Biniam Girmay win another stage yesterday, securing the sprinters’ green jersey for himself, unless something untoward happens. A few riders disappeared yesterday feeling unwell. There are rumours of Covid and one team arrived to the départ wearing masks. There were a couple of crashes, at least, one where a rider misjudged a bend and mounted the pavement, coming down heavily into the road. And one of the leading five (I think) in the general classification, Primoz Roglic, was involved in a multiple crash. He got back on his bike and finished the stage with a badly grazed shoulder and his jersey in tatters. This morning came news that he has withdrawn. It’s a cruel sport!
My contribution to the sporting scene yesterday was to go along and watch our 4 year old grandson take part in his pre-school sports day. With year five pupils (third year juniors in the terminology my generation grew up with) in charge of teams, the small people threw bean bags, walked the line with quoits balanced on their heads, jumped over mini-hurdles, balanced on low beams and did a potato and spoon race (had they used eggs, there would have been an almighty mess). I have to admire the staff and the young monitors who organised the children. Persuading around 25 small people to cooperate is rather like herding cats.
And I have to confess that the child who was least able to stand in line and wait his turn, the one who most frequently wandered off to look at interesting stones and to pick up worms and beetles and put them in the collection of bug-hotels was our little fellow! Heaven help his reception class teacher next year!
I do him a disservice, well, a small one. He CAN sit still and concentrate, he loves to listen to stories, he produces interesting construction toy models (often) art work (at times) and he can regale you with astounding facts about bugs and beetles and undersea creatures!
Everyone received a certificate, a medal and an ice-lolly at the end of proceedings. All were winners.
According to this article, we should encourage him to be an independent, adventurous child, as they do in Norway. From the sound of things, Norwegian children still have the same kind of freedom that most of my generation had before our roads became too busy and many parks and recreation grounds closed down.
Here’s a strange case of fact following fiction - science fiction. In Frank Herberts 1965 novel, Dune, the inhabitants of the drought-stricken planet wear still-suits, specially fitted suits which collect and recycle sweat and urine and convert them into drinking water. I saw this headline:
Scientists design spacesuit that can turn urine into drinking water
and immediately thought of the science fiction world. Then I opened the article and saw the sub-heading:
Creators hope prototype, modelled on Dune ‘stillsuits’, could be used before 2030 in Nasa’s Artemis programme.
There you go. And here’s a link to the article.
And finally, a bit of linguistic stuff to finish off. The Spanish word, and name, ‘hidalgo” is a contraction of “hijo de algo”, literally “son of something” but actually indicating descent from a noble family. The Mayor of Paris was waxing enthusiastic about the coming olympic games. Her name on Anne Hidalgo. She is a socialist. There’s a little irony there!
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment